


Just a Little Touch

by ladydoor



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Calm Percival, Established Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, Established Relationship, Grounding, Husbands, Intimacy, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Percival Knows What Newt Needs, Protective Original Percival Graves, Sensory Overload, Social Anxiety, Stress Relief, touches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydoor/pseuds/ladydoor
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander
Comments: 4
Kudos: 148





	Just a Little Touch

The publication of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ was a huge success. The party thrown by the publisher equally so. The creme de la creme of the wizarding world attended, people from the academia intermingling with celebrities. Everyone wished to congratulate the author and Newt had been going from hand to hand for nearly two hours now. There were flashes of cameras everywhere as the journalists from Daily Prophet and other newspapers wanted to capture the best photo of the hero of the day. The low murmur of conversation raised its level to loud laughter more often than not as the champagne glasses were steadily distributed.

Percival tried to keep an eye on Newt but he too was forced to give his attention to various important people who weren’t going to let slide the opportunity to talk to the otherwise unapproachable Director. He stole a glance from time to time and noticed worryingly that Newt’s nervousness was increasing rapidly. He resembled a Mooncalf trying to hide in its burrow except there was nowhere to hide here.

Percival finally decided that enough was enough and made his way through the crowd to his husband. To his dismay, he found Newt trembling as he tried to keep a brave face on.

Percival placed his palm on Newt’s lower back.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he whispered to Newt’s ear.

The younger man shuddered violently in relief. Percival made polite but firm excuses left and right and led Newt to the door. He retrieved their coats, took Newt by the arm and quickly apparated them home.

Newt let out a sigh once they were in the familiar living room but he was still shaking hard, his teeth chattering, his eyes shifting rapidly from spot to spot and he looked ready to crawl out of his skin. The smart suit they had tailored for him was suffocating him, the collar too stiff, the angles too sharp and revealing and the black colour too hard. Suits were a second skin for Percival but Newt felt at home in his soft woolen trousers and waistcoat, hiding his frame in the coat and under the haphazardly tied Hufflepuff scarf.

Percival took him by the hand and let him to the bedroom without uttering a word. He deposited the shaking man in the middle of the room and said: “Strip to your underwear.” It wasn’t a request but an order because he knew Newt was not able to process anything else in this state.

Newt breathed out and his shaking hands went for the tie. Percival didn’t help him, he simply stood there, motionless and silent.

It seemed that with each garment falling on the floor (at which Percival internally winced), Newt could breathe a little easier. When he finally undressed with only the underpants on, Percival said: “Sit in the middle of the bed.”

Newt did what he was told, still without holding eye contact. Percival quickly but not hurriedly stripped to the undershirt and pants and moved behind Newt, who sat cross legged on the duvet, his whole frame radiating so much tension he could power the street lights in the whole Manhattan.

“I am going to touch you now,” Percival said calmly and placed his palms on Newt’s shoulders. Newt shuddered and goosebumps erupted under Percy’s palms. Percival held his hands in place and when he felt his husband relaxing marginally, he began slowly moving them. He kept his touch firm, not caressing, instead pressing gently into Newt’s body. From the shoulders he moved to his back and then arms, covering the whole surface in slow, sure strokes and finished by covering Newt’s hands and pressing them palms down into matress.

Then he slided his hands back to his husband’s shoulders and began to massage Newt’s scalp. The redhead groaned and let his head fall back into Percy’s hands. Percival deftly moved his fingers through Newt’s locks they had unsuccessfully tried to tame for the occasion, tousling them wild again. Newt began to slump against him. Percival placed one arm around Newt’s front and pressed him firmly to his chest. The Auror’s undershirt was made from absurdly soft cotton and Newt loved wearing it when Percy wasn’t home. He thought Percy didn’t know about it but in that, he was of course wrong.

Percival held him against his chest with one hand while carding through Newt’s hair with the other. Newt leaned his head on his husband’s shoulder and turned it to the side as he nosed into the crook of Percy’s neck and inhaled contentedly. His heartbeat was gradually calming down.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice still unsteady but feeling more like himself.

Percival sneaked his other arm around Newt’s waist and hummed, vibrations seeping from his chest though Newt’s back.

“Anytime, darling.


End file.
